


Through their eyes

by bennyboyTallmadge



Series: platonic!Washette [9]
Category: 18th Century CE RPF, American Revolution RPF, Historical RPF, Turn (TV 2014)
Genre: August 1777 - May 1780, Gen, i tried something new, platonic!Washette
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-21
Updated: 2021-03-21
Packaged: 2021-03-28 10:54:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30138477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bennyboyTallmadge/pseuds/bennyboyTallmadge
Summary: Washington, Lafayette and the story of their friendship, told through the eyes of those who shared their journey throughout the war.Part I: Through Hamilton's EyesOpen for suggestions!
Relationships: Gilbert du Motier Marquis de Lafayette & George Washington, Gilbert du Motier Marquis de Lafayette/George Washington
Series: platonic!Washette [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/836010
Comments: 5
Kudos: 16





	Through their eyes

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! I decided to start a new project inside my platonic!Washette-series, in which I plan to tell the story of Lafayette and Washington's friendship from the perspectives of the people who shared parts of their journey throughout the war and after, and I decided to start with Alexander Hamilton's view. 
> 
> Those of you who have read the other parts might notice that this story overlaps with others I have already written, especially with "Worthy of esteem", "Fever" and "No nobler soul". Since Hamilton was present during parts of these stories, I have included excerpts that re-tell some scenes from his perspective. 
> 
> Please let me know if you enjoyed this story and if you want me to continue with another "view". You can also suggest a person whose perspective you would like me to write!
> 
> [some remarks on the historical background can be found in the End Notes]

When Alexander Hamilton first met the Marquis de Lafayette, it was a hot summer day in the city of Philadelphia. The sun was burning down onto the American capital’s streets and roofs as the party around General Washington arrived in the late afternoon after a tiring, several hour long journey from the army’s encampment to the city. Hamilton and the other aides-de-camp, Tench Tilghman and John Laurens, had joined the commander-in-chief on his visit to Philadelphia during which he intended to consult with Congress regarding recent British troop movements toward the capital. Due to the insufferable temperatures, Washington had postponed today’s consultations to the early morning hours of the next day.

Hamilton and Laurens, to their delight, had been told to spend the remainder of the day as they saw fit. A few hours of leisure, especially in this heat, were a very much welcome surprise. Tomorrow promised to be packed with exhausting consultations, and in the evening, Washington and his aides had been invited to attend a dinner hosted by members of Congress. Thus, a free evening was exactly what Hamilton had secretly hoped for, especially considering that he would get the chance of spending some time with Laurens outside of their joint office. Upon arriving at the inn they were to be quartered in for the night, they dismounted and handed their horses to a servant. Hamilton was just about to inquire about Laurens’ plans for the remainder of the evening, when he noticed Washington approaching them. 

“Gentlemen,” he addressed them, taking off his tricorn to reveal damp strands of his auburn hair.

“Sir,” Hamilton greeted the commander-in-chief and exchanged a quick, questioning look with Laurens. His friend only shrugged. 

“It has come to my attention that tomorrow’s dinner will also be attended by the newest addition to our army, the Marquis de Lafayette,” Washington said, “Congress has appointed him Major-General. A merely honorary rank, if I may add so. Would you two gentlemen be so kind and introduce yourself to him? He might join my headquarters as an aide, for the time being, and I would like you to be acquainted with him before tomorrow.” 

“We will, Sir,” Hamilton said and Washington nodded sharply. 

“I was told that you will find him at the State Hall,” the General added before taking his leave. Hamilton sighed as soon as Washington was out of sight. He heard Laurens chuckle quietly next to him. 

“I knew there would be another order,” Laurens said, patting Hamilton’s arm in a consolatory gesture. Hamilton regarded him with a smile.

“Well, then,” he said, “let us meet with our new French friend.”

As they made their way through the city, Hamilton and Laurens passed the time speculating on the identity of the new “addition”, as Washington had called him. To Hamilton, Washington had sounded quite annoyed at the prospect of another Frenchman joining the army, and Hamilton could not blame him for this sentiment. Far too many noblemen had arrived in America recently, demanding a rank in the army and a chance to fight their country’s arch enemy. In general, the Frenchmen were quite arrogant, unwilling to learn the English language, and tended to overestimate their military capabilities. Hamilton did not expect much else from the newly arrived Marquis, and neither did Laurens. 

Their expectation, however, was soon proven wrong. Upon arriving at the State Hall after a brief walk through the city, Hamilton questioned a guard at the entrance as to where they could find the Marquis. The guard had last seen the Frenchman at the back of the building, and thus, the two aides followed his directions. In the small garden behind the hall, they found a tall, lanky man, standing with his back turned towards them. Apparently, he was occupied with studying a book and had not taken notice of the two aides' presence. Hamilton exchanged a brief look with Laurens before clearing his throat to attract the man’s attention. The sound seemed to have startled the Frenchman, since he flinched at the sound and quickly turned around. Hamilton was surprised to see a young man not much older than himself. He was wearing a well-fitted uniform, and his powdered hair was tied back in a neat braid. 

"Monsieur de Lafayette?", Hamilton asked, and the man nodded. 

" _Oui_ , ah, yes, at your service," Lafayette said, with a thick accent. "I believe we have not met yet," he added, but he phrased it like a question. The young man appeared nervous, Hamilton noticed, and he was unconsciously fumbling with the cover of the book he had been reading in. A dictionary, as Hamilton observed not without surprise. 

"Colonel Alexander Hamilton, aide-de-camp to his Excellency, General Washington, at your service," he introduced himself, extending his hand to shake Lafayette's. The Marquis returned the handshake and gave him a radiating smile. 

"Gilbert du Motier, Marquis de Lafayette," he said, and quickly added: "Just Lafayette is fine, I should say." 

The Marquis was a charming man, Hamilton thought as he watched Laurens shake hands with the Frenchman. He was gifted with handsome, almost delicate features, and his hazel eyes were alight with a fire Hamilton had rarely seen in the other European noblemen. Despite his halting English and his obvious nervosity, Lafayette radiated a natural, disarming charm. Hamilton decided that maybe, just maybe, this man would prove to become the exception to his dislike of the French glory-hunters streaming into America. 

"What say you, gentlemen, shall we take a walk through the city?", Hamilton asked and Laurens nodded in agreement. 

"We can show you around, if you would like," Laurens said to Lafayette and the Frenchman gave them another of his infectious smiles. 

"Ah, yes, I would be - ah, how do I say - delighted?" He tilted his head in a questioning gesture and Hamilton nodded. "Maybe you could help me with-?" He pointed toward the dictionary in his hand. 

"Believe me, you already speak English better than most of your countrymen, if I may say so," Hamilton said, "but if you require assistance, we shall be glad to be of help." 

"We do speak French, my dear Hamilton, you forgot to mention that," Laurens said in a slightly mocking tone and Hamilton laughed at his intervention. 

"We do," he said in French, and watched a wave of relief wash over Lafayette's face as he joined Hamilton's laughter. 

By the time the three men made their way through the busy streets of Philadelphia, conversing in a mixture of French and English, with Lafayette eager to learn new vocabulary, Hamilton had almost forgotten that they were here by orders of General Washington. He would not have believed this an hour earlier, but now he was certain that the Marquis was going to grow quite close to Laurens and him.

The sun was already setting as they arrived back at State Hall, where Lafayette would wait for two of the Frenchman who had arrived in America with him, as he had told them. 

"We heard you will attend tomorrow's dinner," Laurens said as they came to a halt before the doors. Lafayette nodded. 

"Yes. I was told that I would be introduced to General Washington," he said and he seemed to hesitate for a few moments. "Washington, how - how is he? I have heard a lot about him, but I wish to make a good impression on him and-" 

The nervosity that had been almost absent during their walk had returned to the young man's face. 

"I'm certain you will do just fine tomorrow," Hamilton said. "However, I would advise you to not have too high hopes regarding the commander. He is an excellent general and I admire him greatly, but he usually keeps his distance to his officers. Do not worry if he might seem quite reserved and cold.” 

Lafayette appeared somewhat disappointed at Hamilton’s advice, but he nodded. 

“I shall keep that in mind,” he said. “Will you be there tomorrow, too?”

“We will,” Laurens confirmed.

“If you wish, we may meet beforehand and attend the dinner together,” Hamilton suggested. 

Lafayette smiled at them. “I would very much like that. Thank you.”

By the time they had said their goodbyes and Hamilton and Laurens returned to their inn, it was already dark in the city. 

*

The next day passed a lot quicker than Hamilton had anticipated. The council with the members of Congress was as exhausting as he had expected, but in what almost felt like the blink of an eye, it was evening. Together with Laurens and Tilghman, Hamilton had met with the Marquis before the dinner, as they had agreed to yesterday. They were running late, owing to an unfortunate incident involving Laurens’ breeches and a pot of spilled ink, and Hamilton could sense that Lafayette was tense with nervousness. The entire way between State Hall and the inn, he had been fumbling with the buttons of his coat, his neckerchief and the collar of his uniform and he was as pale as a sheet. Hamilton patted his shoulder in a comforting gesture as they entered the inn and gave him a smile. 

“Relax, my friend. They are not going to eat you alive,” he said in an attempt to cheer the Frenchman up. Lafayette gave him a shaky grin. Laurens laughed at his remark as he opened the door. The room they entered was filled with voices and the smell of food and wine. Hamilton quickly oriented himself. Washington was seated at the head of the large table, with Henry Laurens to his left. Other members of Congress were sitting around the table, engaged in conversation and already occupied with eating dinner. They looked up at the arriving men and Hamilton indicated a bow. He placed a hand on Lafayette’s upper back and smiled at the assembled dinner guests.

“Gentlemen, may I introduce to you, our new volunteer and Major-General, the Marquis de Lafayette,” he said, and gave a little nudge to the Frenchman who seemed to be momentarily frozen in place. Lafayette cleared his throat, blushing, as all eyes in the room were focusing on him. 

"It is an honor to be here," he said. His accent was even more audible than it had been when he had spoken to Hamilton and Laurens yesterday, but judging from the men's appreciative nods, they were pleased by the Frenchman's apparent willingness to speak English at all. Hamilton noticed how Washington was watching them from the other side of the room, his expression unreadable as always. The General's eyes followed Lafayette as he was given a seat at the head of the table, directly opposite of Washington. 

Laurens gave Lafayette a reassuring smile as they sat down. The Marquis' hands were shaking, Hamilton observed, even though he was trying to hide it. Although Lafayette's gaze was wandering around the room, taking in all the new faces, Hamilton did not miss that his eyes returned to Washington almost every other second. He grew even more flustered as their gazes met and the General gave him one of his barely visible smiles. As Hamilton had expected, Washington had already made an impression on Lafayette. 

As the evening progressed, the Marquis appeared to relax gradually. Many questions were being directed at him, inquiring about his motivations to join the army, and to serve without pay, and to the dinner guests' obvious surprise, Lafayette was able to answer them in English, with only a few interventions of Laurens' translations. His natural charm was captivating and Hamilton found himself listening attentively to what Lafayette had to say. Washington, who, as usual, listened to the conversations around the dinner table more than he actively contributed to them, appeared quite intrigued by the young man, he noticed. There was a certain softness to his expression as the General watched the Marquis from across the table, a look Hamilton had only seldomly seen in him before. 

After the passing of another hour, the first guests announced that they would take their leave. Eventually only a few Congressmen, the aides, Washington, and Lafayette were left in the room that was now illuminated by the light of several candles and oil lamps. Hamilton was occupied by a discussion with Tilghman, and Laurens had seized the opportunity to involve Lafayette in a conversation concerning his opinions on slavery. He and the Marquis were standing near an open window and although Hamilton was unable to hear what exactly they were discussing, it appeared to be a quite lively debate.

As Washington approached the two men, Laurens left the General alone with Lafayette and joined Hamilton and Tilghman at the table. From the corner of his eyes, Hamilton observed how Washington spoke to Lafayette. The Marquis’ posture was tense with obvious nervousness, and from across the room, Hamilton could hear how he stumbled over his English from time to time. Not wanting to make Lafayette even more uncomfortable by watching the conversation, Hamilton averted his eyes and rejoined his discussion with Tilghman. 

A few minutes later, Laurens nudged Hamilton with his elbow. 

“Looks like our French friend has successfully charmed the General,” he said, and chuckled. Hamilton turned around to where Lafayette and Washington were still standing at the window. Washington was attentively listening to the young man, with his head slightly tilted to the side and with that strangely soft expression Hamilton had observed earlier. 

Smiling to himself, Hamilton turned back to Laurens and Tilghman. Maybe he had been wrong in advising Lafayette not to hope to gain Washington’s sympathy. 

*

Over the course of the next few weeks, Hamilton, not without astonishment, watched the beginnings of a friendship develop between Lafayette and Washington. The Marquis had moved into headquarters after Washington had asked him to join his military family, and thus, he was passing much of his free time with Hamilton and Laurens. The three young men had grown quite close ever since the evening at the inn, and somehow, there was always something for them to discuss and debate. Often, they would remain in one man’s quarters until after midnight, talking until the candles were burned out. An almost equal amount of time, however, Lafayette spent with Washington. Many evenings, Laurens and Hamilton would wait for their new friend to return from the General’s office and often it took until ten or later for him to join them. 

“We thought you had decided to run back to France, _mon ami_ ”, Hamilton would tease him when he would finally arrive at the aides’ quarters and Lafayette would only grin and drop onto a nearby chair. It was obvious that he enjoyed the attention Washington was giving him, and his self-confidence and his skills in speaking English were flourishing. Hamilton did not know what exactly Washington and Lafayette were discussing in their almost daily meetings, but apparently, the Marquis had somehow managed to grow closer to the usually so stoic General in a few weeks than others probably ever would. Whenever Hamilton saw the unlikely pair together, he recognized the soft, warm expression with which Washington regarded Lafayette, the one he had first seen at the inn back in August. At councils, the Marquis was the only one whom the General never lashed out at, even when their opinions differed. Lafayette, in turn, regarded Washington with obvious adoration, and he did not make it a secret that the General was his new-found idol.

Yes, Hamilton had certainly been wrong about his first advice.

*

The months the Continental Army spent encamped at Valley Forge were the coldest Hamilton remembered experiencing in his entire life. The snow was lying several feet deep in some areas, and where the men had made pathways through the snow, the mud had frozen to a dangerous labyrinth of holes and sharp edges. No one walked through camp faster than absolutely necessary, in fear of breaking a leg, like many unfortunate men had before them. Supplies were rare, and the men lacked everything they possibly could. Over time, Hamilton lost count of how many they buried each week who had died of sickness, hunger and the cold.

The officers' nerves were on edge, as were the troops', and talk of mutiny and rebellion was whispered in every corner of the camp. Especially Washington, being the commander-in-chief, had become the target of criticism, and the men blamed him for their situation. Rumors were spreading that Congress planned to install General Gates as the new commander and strip Washington of his position. So far, there were only rumours, but Hamilton dreaded their true core nevertheless. Laurens and him felt drained and tired, and even Lafayette was not quite his usual, high-spirited self. He had joined the camp late, after recovering from the injury he had sustained at Brandywine, and the conditions the troops were living in had been a shock to the Frenchman. He had used his own private money to provide some relief to the men under his command, but since most of the roads were blocked, the supply chain was disrupted significantly. In addition, many of the men had only enlisted until the end of the year, which meant that in a few days, the army's size would shrink even further. 

Hamilton and Lafayette, in an effort to convince the men of re-enlisting in the new year, had spent half of the day outside among the troops, speaking to them, trying to keep their spirits up, and showing that the officers had not forgotten about their suffering. Some of the men had been positively surprised to see the two young officers, but most of them had merely stared at them with tired eyes and with cheeks hollowed from starvation. It was a terrible sight, and had the men not been around, Hamilton would have shed some tears about what their army had become. Although they usually never ran out of topics to discuss, Lafayette and Hamilton returned to headquarters in silence. Lafayette's wound still seemed to pain him, Hamilton noticed, since after a few hours of walking through the snow, the Marquis was limping quite considerably. When Hamilton addressed the matter, however, Lafayette was quick to silence him and Hamilton complied. 

They had almost arrived back at the red brick house they were quartered in, when they overheard a conversation nearby. The men did not appear to have noticed Hamilton and Lafayette, as they were sitting in front of a hut, with their backs turned toward them, occupied with keeping the fire in front of them alive. Hamilton was only able to understand snippets of what the men were discussing, but what he heard was enough. 

"What does he even do all day? Can't be so hard to get us something to eat," one of them said and the others nodded in agreement. Hamilton exchanged a look with Lafayette. Judging from his friend's expression, he had heard the conversation, too. 

"I heard Congress will replace him after Christmas," another added, "heard they think he's too old and too much of a coward to lead an army." 

Hamilton felt Lafayette tense beside him. It was now obvious whom the men were talking about, and although they knew that this kind of discussion was omnipresent in camp, they both had never directly heard the men talk in that manner.

"Oh, I pray they will," the first man replied, "Maybe they will finally find someone who is worthy of his rank." The others chuckled in agreement. 

Hamilton took hold of Lafayette's upper arm, trying to drag him away from the scene. It made him incredibly angry to hear the men talk about Washington in that tone, but he also knew that it was a waste of energy to confront everyone in camp who ran their mouth.

"Hamilton, would you be so kind and let go of me?" Lafayette sounded as polite as he always did, but his face told a different story. 

"There is nothing you can do, _mon ami,_ let them talk," Hamilton said in a low voice, but Lafayette shook his head, glaring at him with unconcealed anger in his eyes.

"No one talks about His Excellency like that on my watch," he hissed. Hamilton was just about to try and pull his friend away once more, as one of the men spoke up again. 

"I bet half of the men in this camp could lead this army better than old Georgie does," he said, throwing another piece of wood into the fire. 

Lafayette freed his arm from Hamilton's grasp in one forceful motion. 

"Gilbert," Hamilton warned him, but it was already too late. Lafayette strode over to the hut, grabbed the man by the collar and pulled him up onto his feet. Hamilton saw the man’s eyes widen in both surprise and fear as he recognized the Marquis. 

“Do not dare to ever speak of General Washington like that again,” he growled, “If I happen to hear such talk again, I shall order that all of you be hanged for treason.”

The man stared up at the Frenchman wide-eyed, and quickly stuttered an apology. 

“You are a disgrace for this army,” Lafayette hissed as he let go of him. The man stumbled backwards, barely missing the fire behind him. 

Lafayette returned to where he had left Hamilton, but he did not look any less furious after having confronted the men. Hamilton knew his friend well enough to know that his anger would not subside anytime soon. 

“Come on, now. Let us return to headquarters,” Hamilton said, and patted Lafayette’s shoulder in what he hoped was a calming gesture. 

*

During this winter, Lafayette made a name for himself as Washington’s most ardent defender. The rumors that Gates could become the new commander-in-chief grew into unconcealed plans, and even high-ranking members of Congress and the army did not make it a secret that they considered Washington unfit for leading the American forces to victory. Numerous letters circled in camp, advocating for Washington's replacement and although the General acted as though he was unimpressed by his adversaries' attempts to have him removed, Hamilton knew that this was nothing more than a masquerade. Only once had Washington not hidden his true sentiments in Hamilton's presence. 

"I do not know whom I can trust any longer, Alexander," he had told him one evening in December, and he had sounded as desperate to Hamilton as never before. To his regret, Hamilton did not know an answer either. Yes, most of the generals were loyal to Washington, but who knew for how long? 

Lafayette was furious about the lack of loyalty among the army and Congress. During the past weeks, he had grown almost overly protective of Washington, and he used every chance to defend the General. For Hamilton and Laurens, it was not seldom a two-man task to calm their hot-headed friend during their late-night conversations. 

"I am aware that he can stand up for himself, but did you not hear the talk?", he would say, "Not only the soldiers, but now the generals, too. Gates and Conway, they talk like they are already in command of this army!" 

In a long letter, which he asked Hamilton to proofread, he pledged to Washington that he would always remain loyal to him, and that he considered himself fixed to the General’s fate. After reading the letter, Hamilton was certain that Washington had found an answer to his question of whom he could trust in this army. 

It did not take long for Congress to learn of Lafayette's unwavering support for Washington. Only a few weeks after writing the letter in which he had declared his unconditional loyalty to him, the Marquis was offered a command of an expedition to Canada. Knowing that Lafayette was too ambitious to decline a command, they selected him for a mission that would both be almost impossible to complete in the winter, and, as a side-effect, would separate Washington from his most loyal and ardent supporter. When Hamilton had encountered Lafayette that day, the Frenchman had been fuming with anger. Stumbling over his English, he had ranted on and on about the impudence of this offer, and what had offended him the most was that the mission would remove him out of Washington's command and place him in a position that would equal the commander-in-chief's. Stubborn as he was, Lafayette refused to accept the offer until Congress agreed that he would remain under Washington's command. Eventually, he left for Canada in early February. 

As suspected, his mission became a disaster. Lafayette received less men and supplies than he had been promised, and in the bitter cold of the Canadian winter, he lost many men to illness and starvation. Unable to execute military operations of any kind, the entire expedition appeared to him like a plan to humiliate him and mock him for his youthful ambitions and naivety, as he told Hamilton in one of the many letters he sent to Valley Forge. Washington, too, regretted having agreed to the mission. Not only did it seem to Hamilton as though he truly missed Lafayette, but he also appeared troubled by the thought that after all the support the Frenchman had offered him he had failed at protecting him from the devious plans his young friend had fallen victim to. 

In March, Washington was finally authorized by Congress to order the Marquis back to Valley Forge. When Lafayette arrived in camp a few weeks later, Washington met him at the bottom of the stairs in front of his headquarters. To everyone’s surprise, the General did not even hesitate to pull Lafayette into an embrace as soon as he had dismounted from his horse. To Hamilton, this gesture seemed like both an apology and an expression of gratitude to Lafayette, and like a warning to everyone present who might harbor plans of ever deceiving his protégé again. Lafayette had proven his unconditional loyalty, and thus, Washington was going to defend him.

*

Spring and summer passed quickly, and sooner than Hamilton had expected, the leaves started to fall and the cold returned. The Continental Army had fought numerous battles this summer, some successful and others less so, and many lives had been lost on the battlefield. Hamilton already dreaded the long winter months, knowing that many more men would succumb to sickness and the cold. The memories of Valley Forge were still vivid in his mind, and reliving these horrifying months did not appear like a very pleasurable outlook.

Lafayette, having been away from home for more than a year now, had requested leave from Congress to return to France. In late October, he had left camp for Boston, to board a ship that would carry him back to Europe. Hamilton had bid him farewell with mixed emotions. Yes, he was happy that his friend was able to return home and reunite with his wife and daughter, but he also felt that he was going to miss him terribly. Hamilton, Laurens and Lafayette had grown close during the time they had spent together, and Lafayette’s departure left a hole in their middle that could not be filled easily.

Washington, too, was pained by the Marquis’ absence. Over the course of the summer, Hamilton had watched the unlikely pair become almost inseparable. The usually so stoic Washington could be seen smiling and joking in Lafayette’s presence, and the affections he harbored for the young Frenchman were obvious even to a blind man. Lafayette, offering him unwavering loyalty and attachment, thrived under his guidance. Whenever the other generals were out of earshot, they openly treated each other as father and son, and although Hamilton could not relate to Lafayette’s wish to bind himself this closely to Washington, he found their obvious and unconcealed love for each other quite endearing. On the day Lafayette had left camp, the General was nowhere to be seen after bidding the Frenchman _adieu_ in the early morning hours, and Lafayette, as Hamilton had observed with a heavy heart, had been crying as he had mounted his horse in front of Washington’s headquarters. 

A week had now passed since the Marquis had left, and the normalcy of every-day life had returned to both camp and headquarters. Hamilton spent his days - and sometimes nights - writing letters and reports, the men began setting up their tents and huts for winter quarters, and Washington gave his usual orders. It was a night like every other, and Hamilton had stayed up until the early morning hours finishing some letters, when Washington entered the aides' office, looking strangely distraught. Hamilton's immediate response was to expect bad news.

"Morning, Sir," he greeted him and Washington nodded at him. 

“Already awake at this early hour?”, the General asked and Hamilton gave him a tired smile, gesturing to the stack of paper in front of him.

“Not already, Sir, still”, he said, after having suppressed a yawn. 

“You should be resting for some time”, Washington said, and Hamilton grew more and more confused by his unusual behavior. 

“If I may ask, what causes you to be still awake – or already?”, he asked, putting the letter he was currently working on aside.

“Already it is for me, I fear.”, Washington said, “The latest events do not grant me peaceful sleep.” 

By now, Hamilton was admittedly concerned. Washington was usually a man to come straight to the core of a matter instead of dancing around uncomfortable issues longer than necessary. 

“The circumstance troubling my mind is one you deserve to be noticed of,'' Washington added, which did not contribute much to clarifying what he was saying. 

“What is it, Sir?”, Hamilton asked, the urgency and concern in his voice unconcealed. Washington came closer and sat down on a chair at the table, facing him. From up close, Hamilton could see the dark shadows under the General's eyes and he looked as though he had been crying. Hamilton mentally prepared himself for the worst.

“It is Lafayette," Washington eventually said. Hamilton expected him to continue, but the General fell silent again, avoiding his gaze. He felt nausea rise inside his chest. 

“Is he-”, he began, not daring to finish the question. _Dead,_ he had meant to say, but he found himself unable to force the word across his lips. 

“No, no, he is not- he has fallen ill”, Washington quickly clarified and Hamilton felt a wave of relief washing over him. “He was found unconscious upon his horse by militia close to Fishkill”, Washington continued, “A high fever, the physician says. I went to inquire after him yesterday, but he does not seem to be on the road to recovery just yet.”

The relief he had felt a few seconds ago left Hamilton as quickly as it had come over him. Washington’s account gave him reason for worry, and judging by the General’s expression, Lafayette’s condition was serious.

“Sir, do you believe he will recover?”, Hamilton asked after a long pause and watched as Washington clenched his jaw. He believed to see some tears shimmer in his eyes but Washington averted his face before he could tell for certain. 

“I fear I do not know”, he finally said, quietly. Hamilton shook his head in stubborn disbelief. 

“He has to. Dying on a sickbed? That is not how he will leave this world!” 

Lafayette had once told him that if fate had decided that he was to die young, he wanted to die in battle, like a hero, and not from sickness, as a shadow of his former self. 

“No, you are right, it is not,” Washington replied, not directly facing Hamilton but staring at the wall on the opposite side of the room, appearing lost in thought. A tense silence began to hover over them. Hamilton was unsure as to how to respond, and his mind was now occupied with worry about his friend instead of the letter he had been writing earlier. It had already been hard to bid Lafayette farewell for the time of his return to France, but the possibility of him never returning pained him greatly. 

Hamilton heard Washington exhale shakily, and looked up at the General. He could not remember seeing Washington cry in the over two years of knowing him quite well, but right now, his eyes were shimmering with tears. 

"I cannot lose him, Alexander," Washington suddenly said, with his voice barely more than a whisper, looking at him with unconcealed pain and desperation, as though Hamilton could somehow influence the Marquis' recovery, "Anyone...anyone, but not him." 

Washington was not a man of many words, but he did not need to add anything to what he had said. Hamilton's heart ached at the sight of seeing the General this desperate. He had seen Washington lose battles and thousands of men, but nothing could compare to the pain written on his face by the possibility of losing Lafayette. 

Hamilton reached out with one hand to touch Washington's forearm which was resting on the desk. 

"I know. The thought is unbearable for me, too. But if anyone can beat the odds, it is him." He paused for a moment and smiled to himself in spite of the situation's severity. "If he were here, he would probably still be joking. He'd be absolutely terrified by the possibility of someone other than him being given his food ration." 

Washington gave him a teary eyed smile.

"I am certain that he will make a swift recovery," Hamilton added, partly since he needed to convince himself. 

Clearing his throat, Washington stood up and straightened his coat. 

"I will let you know if there is any news," he said and Hamilton nodded. He watched as the General left, and somehow, Washington suddenly seemed a lot less tall than usual.

*

As Hamilton had hoped and predicted, Lafayette eventually made a full recovery from his illness. The Marquis was bed bound at Fishkill for more than three weeks, and required another three until he was healthy enough to travel in the sharp winter temperatures. Washington paid his young friend a visit almost every other day, and Hamilton witnessed his mood lighten up significantly as soon as it was certain that Lafayette's life was no longer in danger. The other generals appeared quite relieved about the Marquis' recovery, too, partly because they liked the young Frenchman, but also because Washington was back to his old self and would no longer be constantly on edge in the councils he led. 

In early January, Lafayette finally left for France. The second farewell did not appear to be less painful for Washington than the first. That day, he returned to camp grim-faced and wordless, and the council in the afternoon went by without him having spoken a single sentence. Hamilton knew better than to pester him in this state. 

The months passed and soon, it was summer. Lafayette had wanted to return by June, but no word had arrived from him yet. Hamilton missed the company of his friend. Headquarters were strangely quiet without the Frenchman’s presence and the infectious positive mood he usually radiated. The celebrations on the fourth of July went by without Lafayette, and still, no news had arrived as to when he would return to America. Although he did not often touch upon the topic when speaking to Washington, Hamilton did not fail to notice how much the General suffered from Lafayette’s absence. He smiled less, talked less. At councils and dinners, the spot to his right, where the Marquis used to sit, always remained empty as nobody dared to occupy the void Lafayette had left behind. Washington anxiously awaited every letter his young friend would send him, and with every letter that did not speak of his return, his mood worsened.

Hamilton wished he could come up with a way to comfort the grieving General and raise his spirits, but for now, he knew there was nothing they could do but wait. Lafayette was fighting for their cause on another front, pleading at the court for King Louis to extend his support for the American troops, and from what they read in his letters and heard from the French ambassadors visiting camp, he was quite successful in doing so. As grateful as Hamilton was for Lafayette's help in strengthening the French-American alliance, he hoped that his friend would return soon, if only for Washington's sake.

They watched as the leaves turned red and the snow began to fall, and still, they waited. 

*

It was a rainy spring day in early May, and Hamilton was consulting with Washington about a letter they had received from Congress regarding the next delivery of supplies to the encampment at Morristown, as someone knocked at Washington’s office door.

“Come in!" 

Washington gave Hamilton an apologizing look. Intelligence and urgent news always came first. A few weeks ago, a letter had arrived from France, in which Lafayette had announced that he was _en route_ to a ship that would finally carry him back to America, and ever since receiving the letter, Washington was on edge. They did not know when exactly the Marquis was scheduled to arrive, and they all were aware that the journey across the ocean was not without danger and thus, Hamilton, Laurens and Washington were hoping to receive news from their French friend soon. 

A courier entered the office and saluted hastily before he handed a note to Washington. The General nodded at the man to signal him that he was dismissed. Hamilton closely watched his face as he opened the note. An urgent note, in his experience, carried bad news more often than good news. 

Washington skimmed the note, and after a few seconds, Hamilton saw how his eyes began to shimmer with tears. Averting his face, Washington wiped over his cheek with shaking fingers. 

“Sir?” Hamilton asked, taken aback by Washington’s reaction. Wordlessly, Washington handed him the letter. Fearing the worst, Hamilton began to read. It only took him a few moments to understand that Washington was crying tears of joy. 

_Here I am, my dear general_ , Lafayette had written, _in a mist of joy that I feel in finding myself again one of your loving soldiers. The day after tomorrow I will set off in my usual way to join my belov’d and respected friend and General._

A broad grin began spreading over Hamilton’s face. This was good news indeed. Washington had still not regained full control over his emotions. When Hamilton looked up, the General smiled at him with red-rimmed eyes, and although there were traces of tears upon his cheeks, Hamilton could not recall seeing him this happy in over a year.

"Finally. He left us waiting for long enough," Hamilton said, still grinning, and handed the letter back to Washington. After a few seconds, the General cleared his throat, appearing slightly embarrassed at his emotional outburst. 

"I will send some cavalry to escort him to camp," he announced and rose from his desk. 

"May I join them?" Hamilton asked, "I know which route he is referring to." 

Washington nodded. 

"You may. I would be happy to have you lead the detachment," he said. 

"Thank you, Sir. I will ready the men right away." 

Hamilton turned on his heels and left Washington's office. Although it was raining heavily as he stepped out of the headquarter's main entrance, his elated mood had not left him. It had been more than a year since he had last seen his friend, and the excitement of being reunited soon was more than enough to make him forget about the bad weather. 

The next morning, shortly after sunrise, Hamilton left camp with a small cavalry unit. It had not ceased raining overnight, and thus, the roads were muddy and slippery. They were forced to slow the horses down to a light trott, and still, their mounts stumbled from time to time. Hamilton knew they had to be careful, not just regarding the roads' conditions but also regarding enemy forces. A few British scouting units had been spotted over the course of the last week, and the feeling of being watched creeped up Hamilton's spine as soon as he thought about the potential danger for long enough. 

It was as though the British had gotten word of Lafayette's arrival back in America, Hamilton thought, since normally, the enemy scouts did not dare to venture this far into patriot territory. Maybe it was a coincidence, but he feared that the British were all too eager to capture the boy-general, as they liked to call Lafayette mockingly. Not only would a captured Major-General be a humiliation for the Continental Army; with the Marquis as a prisoner, the British would also acquire a powerful means of blackmailing Washington, since they were well aware of the bond between him and Lafayette.

Hamilton shook his head to get rid of these speculations. Fear was not a good companion when travelling. 

At noon, they rested for an hour to feed the horses. The rain was still pouring, and although they had found shelter in the woods, both the men and the horses were wet to their skin. Hamilton shivered from the cold as he dismounted. His horse looked equally miserable and he gave it a comforting pat on the neck. Well aware of the danger they were exposed to, Hamilton ordered the men to take turns in standing guard. He was relieved when they finally returned to the road to continue their journey. 

Hamilton hoped that he had been right in his assumption regarding the route Lafayette was going to travel on. Of course he had not been able to disclose his plans in his note, in fear of the letter falling into the enemy’s hands. So far, they had not encountered any signs of the Marquis’ unit, but then again, the heavy rain was making it almost impossible for them to see further than a few yards. Pulling his wet cloak tighter around his shoulders, Hamilton silently cursed the weather. 

“Sir! Over there!” 

The shout of one of his men disrupted Hamilton’s contemplations. He looked up and squinted his eyes, in an effort to recognize what the man was referring to. In the distance, he could make out a few dark silhouettes, horses and men, but he could not see to which side they belonged. Instinctively, his hand wandered to the pistol on his hip. He raised his hand to order the men to halt. With his heart beating rapidly in his chest, he waited for the other unit to come closer. Suddenly, a single man emerged from the blurred, distant mass. Hamilton laughed with relief as he recognized him. It was Lafayette, leading a horse, soaking wet but grinning from ear to ear. 

“Hamilton!”, he exclaimed, urging his horse to follow him. Hamilton signaled his men to lower their weapons. 

“ _Mon ami_ ”, he returned the greeting, smiling at Lafayette, as the Marquis came to a halt beside him. Hamilton quickly dismounted and, not even bothering to hold on to his horse’s reins, pulled his friend into a tight embrace. Lafayette returned it with equal force, his hand gripping Hamilton’s cloak and pulling him closer. 

“I missed you dearly, Alexander,” he heard Lafayette say and Hamilton smiled against the taller man’s shoulder. 

“The feeling is mutual, I assure you,” he replied. When they separated, both were still grinning.

“We received your note yesterday”, Hamilton said, “You should have seen the men. It was quite a party, I tell you.”

Lafayette laughed at his friend’s words. 

“It is so good to be back. Although you and your men scared us for a second,” he added with a laugh. Apparently, Hamilton and his men had not been the only ones who had been on edge during the journey through the woods.

“Washington ordered this escort to move out the moment he opened the letter,” Hamilton said, “The old fox is probably running in circles ever since we left camp.”

Lafayette’s expression turned soft as Hamilton mentioned the General. 

“Washington, how is he?”, he asked, the urgency in his voice unconcealed. 

“Let us get moving. We can talk on the way”, Hamilton said. He knew that his men were tense, and eager to return to camp, and indeed, it was not very wise to remain here for longer than necessary. 

Lafayette nodded in agreement and mounted his horse, as did the men accompanying him. “It is not too far to camp from here,” Hamilton informed him, “If we keep up a good pace, we will be able to reach Morristown in the later afternoon. It is still quite early, fortunately.”

“Did you encounter enemy troops?” Lafayette asked, stirring his horse next to Hamilton’s. 

“There is British cavalry everywhere. We spotted a few scouts this week.” He leaned closer to Lafayette. “They are on a hunt for you, my friend.”

Hamilton believed to recognize a trace of fear in his friend’s eyes and he instantly regretted his words. Lafayette was well aware of his importance in this war and thus also of the danger that accompanied his rank. 

“He is going to be delighted to see you,” Hamilton quickly changed the topic. Lafayette did not need to ask whom he was referring to. 

“I shall hope so,” he said, smiling softly.

“Oh, of course. You should have seen him when he received your note. I do not recall seeing him this happy ever since you left us.”

“So he really did miss me,” Lafayette said quietly. Hamilton shook his head. Sometimes, it seemed to him as though Lafayette was not fully aware of the extent of Washington’s affections for him. 

“ _Mon ami,_ that is a great understatement,” he said, “He was practically grieving after you left. For two weeks he would yell at everyone who did the slightest thing to irritate him and he would not attend a single dinner. When he finally ate with us again, he forbade anyone to sit in your usual place. And-", Hamilton smiled to himself at the memory, “he has a little portrait of you on his desk, it goes with him whenever he moves headquarters. I always felt your eyes on me when I entered his office.”

Lafayette chuckled at the last part. Then, however, his expression turned serious. Hamilton felt that it pained his friend to hear how Washington had suffered in his absence.

“Then I should not leave him waiting any longer,” Lafayette said, and urged his horse into a trott. 

Luckily, the rain finally stopped a few minutes later and thus, they were able to travel at a faster pace. On the way, Hamilton and Lafayette barely ceased talking. There was so much that they had to tell each other, so much news that needed to be exchanged and way too much time that had passed since they had last seen each other. Although more than a year had gone by, Hamilton felt that nothing about their friendship had changed. They still joked about the same matters and never ran out of topics to discuss, just as though Lafayette had never left.

In the early evening hours, shortly before sunset, they finally reached Morristown. Hamilton was exhausted by the long day on the road, and he was relieved to see the rows of white tents in the distance. Turning to Lafayette, he smiled.

“Welcome home, my friend,” he said, and Lafayette returned his smile, and for a moment, Hamilton believed to see tears shimmering in his eyes. 

The men in camp quickly took notice of Lafayette’s arrival. He was popular among the troops, and thus, cheering and clapping accompanied them as they passed through the outskirts of the encampment. Lafayette seemed to enjoy the attention the men were giving him, but Hamilton knew that his priority was to reunite with Washington. There would be time for celebration later. 

"I will make sure they will let you pass," Hamilton told him and Lafayette nodded. He ordered two of the dragoons to flank the Marquis and thus, they reached headquarters without any unwelcome interruptions. Hamilton observed with a smile that Washington was already waiting at the top of the stairs before the red-brick building. He held his arms clasped behind his back and judging from his expression, he was fighting hard to hold back his tears. 

When they came to a halt in front of the house, Lafayette leaped off his horse and ascended the stairs, taking two steps at once. Without hesitation, he all but threw himself into Washington's arms. The General almost stumbled backwards at the impact, but not even a second later, he returned the embrace with equal force. Hamilton saw how Washington gripped the fabric of Lafayette's cloak so hard that his knuckles turned white, as though that would keep him from ever leaving again. Hamilton did not know for how long they remained in their embrace, with Washington's head resting on Lafayette's shoulder, his face buried in the fabric of his uniform, but when they finally separated, he saw that both men were crying. Through their tears, however, they were both smiling, Washington with his more reserved, tight-lipped smile and Lafayette with the radiating grin Hamilton had dearly missed. 

It was an endearing sight to finally see Washington and Lafayette reunited, and Hamilton could not help but smile to himself as he watched them from the bottom of the stairs. Had someone told him three years ago that he would be witness to such an intimate expression of affection between the two, he probably would not have believed it. But somehow, Lafayette had achieved what no one else had even dared to attempt. He had captured the General's heart in a matter of weeks, and Washington, whom everyone considered unapproachable and cold, had opened up to him without any resistance. How exactly Lafayette had done it, Hamilton knew no answer. What he knew however, was that even though bitter defeat and treason, and through every outcome of this war, Lafayette would stay by Washington's side, and to Hamilton, this was the way it was supposed to be. 

**Author's Note:**

> Some remarks on the historical background, for those who are interested: 
> 
> As always, this story is based on real historical events and sources, around which I imagined how Lafayette, Washington and the others might have acted.
> 
> Some background on Lafayette at Valley Forge: https://www.mountvernon.org/library/digitalhistory/digital-encyclopedia/article/the-marquis-de-lafayette-at-valley-forge/  
> The letter Lafayette wrote to Washington as a declaration of loyalty: https://founders.archives.gov/documents/Washington/03-13-02-0063  
> ...and Washington's response: https://founders.archives.gov/documents/Washington/03-13-02-0075  
> Lafayette's note when he arrived in America in 1780 after his leave to France: https://founders.archives.gov/documents/Washington/03-13-02-0075
> 
> And as always, I can highly recommend David Clary's book "Adopted Son", which inspired me to write this series.
> 
> Please leave some feedback!


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